The Potter Luck Strikes Again
by NinjaAwesome
Summary: When Jazmine wants peace, it would, inevitably, lead to war. When she wants to get out of England, only she would end up thrown into an alternate universe full of gods and more war. Really, Jaz realised, I should have been more specific about getting out of England. Fem!Harry. Rated M, just in case.
1. Bella's Suprise

Jazmine Artemis Potter had just wanted to explore the world. She didn't want adventures, she didn't want expectations, her only wish was to get out. The war was over, had been for almost a year now, and she was finally free to do whatever she wished. She no longer had to stay in England. Had no commitment, nothing to keep her from leaving. Her family was safe and settled, her godson was living a calm life with Andromeda. The few properties she had had in England had been emptied out and given to her friends, her vaults had been closed and everything in them placed inside the bag Hermione had made and used during the war.

She could leave. Was leaving.

Of course, the infamous Potter Luck was at it again.

She had called in a favour from the Minister, and had gotten everyone out of the Ministry so that she could leave in relative peace. The port key was set to leave at midnight, and she had everything ready and packed. The Minister was the only person who knew that she was leaving. At least, that's what she thought.

You see, just as the clock hit 12, the port key was blasted out of her hands. She had no time to react, no time to grab for her wand. One moment she was capable of movement, the next she was stiff as a board and lying on the floor, unable to move, and surrounded.

"Ickle bitty Potter," a women with dark grey eyes and grey streaked black hair blinked down at her, giggling in a manner reminiscent of a child. Bellatrix Lestrange was a certifiably insane women, one who had fancied herself in love with the previous, now deceased, Dark Lord. There was no need to guess what she was going to do now. If she could, Jazmine would have sighed.

It was just her luck, wasn't it? She could survive a war led by a murderous tyrant, but was going to die at the hands of his pet.

Bellatrix giggled and turned to her followers, walking away from Jazmine's frozen body. The other Death Eaters made to follow her, looking confused, only for Bella to turn on them, firing a red curse that sent one of them, screaming, to their knees. "Drag her you idiots!" she hissed, giving them a dangerous glare, before twirling back in the direction she had been walking, and skipping along.

The Death Eaters did as they were told, looking to the bag on Jazmine's hip, before ignoring it completely. It wasn't as if she would leave to use it anyway.

The dragged her down at light wooden corridor, into the elevator, before walking into a familiar one filled with mirrors. If she could move, Jaz's eyes would have widened.

The place was just as dark and sombre as it had always been. Black seat rose up, holding invisible spectators by the walls. The walls and floors were a shiny, polished black, a colour so dark that shadows at night looked bright in comparison. Her hair blended perfectly with it, the texture being the only visible difference.

"You thought you would get away with killing my Dark Lord!" Bellatrix turned on her, sending the other Death Eaters skittering to the wooden benches. "We will have our revenge!" Bella grabbed Jaz by her hair, and carelessly yanked her towards the veil. "You shall die the same way my worthless cousin did!" She smiled blackened teeth glinting maliciously. "And your friends shall follow soon." She giggled, twisting her hair between her fingers like some lovesick school girl.

Jazmine felt sick. She wanted to say something, snap back at the one who had dared spell her silent and unable to move. She wanted so badly to do so, but she couldn't. Instead, she did the only thing she could in this situation. She accepted her oncoming death.

And, as she was pushed through the veil, she felt her eyes flutter closed, and movement return to her body. To late for her to do anything about her death. To late to do anything but stare her killer in the eyes, and smile.


	2. Deaths Pure Soul

The personification of Death growled, feeling the entrance of another of the idiots sentenced to her wrath. It had been a long time since someone had been actually sentenced to veil, most were just killed or placed into that silly little place in the Warlock Universe. Azkibon was it? Oh well, she didn't care much.

What she did care about was the disgusting mortal that had been sentenced to death through the veil. She slowly moved to see the one who had entered her realm, smiling creepily and ready to sentence them to the darkest reaches of her home. When she did see who it was, however, she did not react as she should have, and neither did the soul.

The souls physical manifestation had short, blacker than ink hair that reached her mid back in waves of darkness. She had high cheekbones and a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. Her skin was pale, dotted with freckles here and there, and there was a small, white lightening bolt on her cheekbone, one that seemed to make her prettier than uglier. She was short in stature, and far to thin to be healthy, and there were scars in her eyes and upon her body that would have only come from war. What really drew her attention, however, was what her soul actually looked like. It was the purest of white, encased with the strongest magic Death had seen in a while. The soul wasn't blemish free, however, and it made Death cringe in anger to see what the darkness such a rare, pure soul had been forced to go through, a dark grey sat at the corners of her soul, filled with all the manipulations and anger she had gone through. The colour had once been attached to something dark, and her soul was only just healing from it. At the very centre of her soul, Death saw something she had only seen by Fate.

"Mistress!" Death cried, distressed. Why had her dear mistress been mistreated to the unholy tortures of the veil? It should not have happened. Should never have happened! How dare anyone do this to someone so pure of soul? To her pure mistress?!

Fury encased Death like a disused shell. She had never felt something like this before, but it made her want to tear the world apart and leave it to rot and burn. Oh, her poor, dear Mistress! Her prophesised one!

Death quickly pulled herself together and approached the mistreated soul. "Its okay my Mistress," Death said, sounding vulnerable and almost... childlike. "You shall live the immortal life you were supposed to!" She was determined for her Mistress to have another life, one with al the memoies of this one attached.

She looked into life upon life, in the Hogwarts Universe and elsewhere, before coming upon a vessel that would look enough life her mistress did now in the future, and one that could handle the magic that encased her soul. The mortal mother would be a good parent, for the time being. She would have no father - well, none that she could see - and would be able to live a fairly peaceful, if slightly adventurous life, before she stopped ageing at the age of 18, and was able to become anything and any age she wanted to.

Yes, the Olympian Universe was perfect for her Mistress.


End file.
